Fic: The Pillow Book of Jared Padalecki J2 NC-17
Title: The Pillow Book of Jared Padalecki
Author: dastiel_gal
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Kinky Porn
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Warnings Enticements: body art, slash, porn
Word Count: 670
Disclaimer: I don't own Jensen Ackles or Jared Padalecki, more's the pity. This is all scurrilous lies, and I am not making money from this.
Summary: Jensen thinks Jared could use a little culture.
Author’s Notes: Written for the prompt J2, body writing in blindfold_spn. Cross-posted to padacklesrps, jsquared_rps and spn_rps, because I am an attention whore.
Download from AO3
---oo00oo---
"Lie still, dammit, Jared!"
Jensen sits back on his heels, or rather on Jared's firm butt, and surveys his handiwork.
"Explain to me again what we're doing, and why?" Jared huffs, turning his head to frown. Frankly, he feels a little silly. Or a lot silly. He's stark naked, face-down on the bed, and Jensen is... doodling on him. With a brush-tip marker pen. Anyone would feel vulnerable, right?
Jensen gives a long-suffering sigh, pushes Jared's head back to the mattress, and pushes his glasses up his nose. "Don't you ever watch art cinema, Jay? Seriously, you must have seen 'The Pillow Book'?"
"Art films? Me? Have we met?"
"Shut up. It's about a woman who writes a book on her lover's skin. It's deep. And very erotic."
Jared's about to point out that it doesn't feel very freaking erotic, but Jensen's sounding a touch hurt, and this obviously means something to him. Also, Jared has a couple of teeny tiny kinks that have not yet been brought up between them, and he's hoping that if he indulges this apparently harmless scene for Jensen, it will get him a pass on at least one of his dirty little secrets. So he relaxes into the bed and goes with it.
Jensen senses his acquiescence, smiles and gets to work. He has his chosen pens handily nestled in the valley between Jared's immense shoulders, all jewel colours (he discarded the brights and pastels from the pack). He smooths the way for each line and curve with his spare hand, working slowly in confident strokes, leaning back every couple of minutes to judge the effect. Covers the whole back surface of Jared's body with his marks, and then tells him to turn over.
Once Jared decides to play along, he starts enjoying himself surprisingly quickly. The brush feels nice, soft and... sensual. Less tickly than he was expecting. And he never minds Jensen's hands all over his naked body, because, well. So by the time he rolls over, he's at half-mast, and by the time Jensen has painted all over his front too, he's all the way hard. Especially because he can peek now, and Jensen, nude but for his glasses, completely engrossed in his task and nibbling his bottom lip in concentration? Hot. He hums in contentment.
Finally, Jensen has covered Jared's whole body in... whatever he's covered it in. He smiles down at his handiwork in satisfaction, then holds Jared's gaze as he slides backwards and dips down to take Jared's cock in his mouth, and holy crap, Jensen can use Jared as his sketch pad any day of the week if the result is head like this. Slow and easy and every second of it is gorgeous. Not fast or hard enough to make him come, but it feels every bit as delicious and sensual as the body writing, so Jared doesn't care if it goes on all day. He carries on feeling like that all the way up until his climax washes over him unexpectedly, strong and warm, like standing in the surf and having a swell gently pick him off his feet and carry him along.
He's so blissed out that it takes him a while to register that Jensen's working himself with his fist, as slow and erotic as the pace he used on Jared. Jared tries to take over, but his hand gets batted away, so he settles for stroking circles on Jensen's hips until he reaches orgasm at last, crying out and hanging in the moment for what seems like forever, then sinks down on Jared's chest, boneless and sighing in pleasure.
When they've drifted back to reality, Jensen finally allows Jared to go and look at himself in the cheval mirror. Jared stares. He's covered in Enochian sigils, perfectly drawn and powerful-looking, somehow. He's a walking work of art.
"Dude, seriously. I look like the fucking barn!"
"Well, you're fucking built like the fucking barn, too. Shut up."
...
"Hey, Jen... this shit does wash off, right?"
.
Author: dastiel_gal
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Kinky Porn
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Warnings Enticements: body art, slash, porn
Word Count: 670
Disclaimer: I don't own Jensen Ackles or Jared Padalecki, more's the pity. This is all scurrilous lies, and I am not making money from this.
Summary: Jensen thinks Jared could use a little culture.
Author’s Notes: Written for the prompt J2, body writing in blindfold_spn. Cross-posted to padacklesrps, jsquared_rps and spn_rps, because I am an attention whore.
Download from AO3
---oo00oo---
"Lie still, dammit, Jared!"
Jensen sits back on his heels, or rather on Jared's firm butt, and surveys his handiwork.
"Explain to me again what we're doing, and why?" Jared huffs, turning his head to frown. Frankly, he feels a little silly. Or a lot silly. He's stark naked, face-down on the bed, and Jensen is... doodling on him. With a brush-tip marker pen. Anyone would feel vulnerable, right?
Jensen gives a long-suffering sigh, pushes Jared's head back to the mattress, and pushes his glasses up his nose. "Don't you ever watch art cinema, Jay? Seriously, you must have seen 'The Pillow Book'?"
"Art films? Me? Have we met?"
"Shut up. It's about a woman who writes a book on her lover's skin. It's deep. And very erotic."
Jared's about to point out that it doesn't feel very freaking erotic, but Jensen's sounding a touch hurt, and this obviously means something to him. Also, Jared has a couple of teeny tiny kinks that have not yet been brought up between them, and he's hoping that if he indulges this apparently harmless scene for Jensen, it will get him a pass on at least one of his dirty little secrets. So he relaxes into the bed and goes with it.
Jensen senses his acquiescence, smiles and gets to work. He has his chosen pens handily nestled in the valley between Jared's immense shoulders, all jewel colours (he discarded the brights and pastels from the pack). He smooths the way for each line and curve with his spare hand, working slowly in confident strokes, leaning back every couple of minutes to judge the effect. Covers the whole back surface of Jared's body with his marks, and then tells him to turn over.
Once Jared decides to play along, he starts enjoying himself surprisingly quickly. The brush feels nice, soft and... sensual. Less tickly than he was expecting. And he never minds Jensen's hands all over his naked body, because, well. So by the time he rolls over, he's at half-mast, and by the time Jensen has painted all over his front too, he's all the way hard. Especially because he can peek now, and Jensen, nude but for his glasses, completely engrossed in his task and nibbling his bottom lip in concentration? Hot. He hums in contentment.
Finally, Jensen has covered Jared's whole body in... whatever he's covered it in. He smiles down at his handiwork in satisfaction, then holds Jared's gaze as he slides backwards and dips down to take Jared's cock in his mouth, and holy crap, Jensen can use Jared as his sketch pad any day of the week if the result is head like this. Slow and easy and every second of it is gorgeous. Not fast or hard enough to make him come, but it feels every bit as delicious and sensual as the body writing, so Jared doesn't care if it goes on all day. He carries on feeling like that all the way up until his climax washes over him unexpectedly, strong and warm, like standing in the surf and having a swell gently pick him off his feet and carry him along.
He's so blissed out that it takes him a while to register that Jensen's working himself with his fist, as slow and erotic as the pace he used on Jared. Jared tries to take over, but his hand gets batted away, so he settles for stroking circles on Jensen's hips until he reaches orgasm at last, crying out and hanging in the moment for what seems like forever, then sinks down on Jared's chest, boneless and sighing in pleasure.
When they've drifted back to reality, Jensen finally allows Jared to go and look at himself in the cheval mirror. Jared stares. He's covered in Enochian sigils, perfectly drawn and powerful-looking, somehow. He's a walking work of art.
"Dude, seriously. I look like the fucking barn!"
"Well, you're fucking built like the fucking barn, too. Shut up."
...
"Hey, Jen... this shit does wash off, right?"
.